


Jacob Frye x Reader: Son of a Glitch!

by Oreana



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, F/M, Love, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 21:54:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7775098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oreana/pseuds/Oreana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A glitch in Jacob’s memories causes him to divide into two different Jacobs: the well mannered Jacob and the more brash and excitable Jacob. The reader is sent into the Animus to try and fix the glitch and get Jacob recombined before the data becomes too corrupted to view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jacob Frye x Reader: Son of a Glitch!

**Author's Note:**

> {IMPORTANT: I am afraid that no more Jacob Frye/Assassin's Creed works will come from me having been harassed out of the fandom for nearly half a year. I've lost my drive and passion for it entirely, but I appreciate the support and love that has come from some of my readers. <3 Thank you all for the fun times, but because of the death threats and other absurd comments thrown my way via Tumblr, I'd rather forget about this fandom entirely. Do not expect anymore updates of these stories.}

He had glitched. Very rarely did you ever see anything like it—two of the same character in the same room together, but for the first time (since helping the Assassins) you saw Jacob Frye’s memory actually divide Jacob’s memory into two Jacobs.

“That is odd,” said Bishop from your telecommunications line. “Perhaps if you try restarting the memory it might bring him back together?”

“I already tried that,” you responded with a sigh as you kept the visor on that allowed you an overview look through everything going on in Jacob and Evie’s memories. “He still remains apart…like the glitch is unfixable or something.”

“I doubt that,” insisted Bishop, though an exasperated sigh could just be heard from her side of the line. “This is a mess. We need to get him back together or the memory might become fragmented and hard to read.”

“I can’t even control him anymore.” You had tried everything to fix the glitched memory but to no avail.

“Alright, initiate,” began Bishop, “I am going to construct an avatar for you, but I need you to use it wisely.”

You watched through the loading screen as Bishop assembled the avatar to appear like you but with the Rooks attire—an open coat with a necktie, pants and boots mudded by the streets of London.

“If you so much as derail Jacob or Evie Frye off of their path in the memories, it could cause further corruption in the data that we have,” your mentor explained. “Do whatever you can to get him reassembled, but make sure not to interfere with history itself, or it could cause problems for us in locating that shroud.”

All you could think to do was roll your eyes. You had been working for them for awhile now from the safety of your own home. Abstergo didn’t know where you lived, and if you could aid the Assassins as you promised from the comfort of home, then you would gladly.

Soon, the loading screen engulfed you, and you found yourself in the first person control of this avatar that Bishop had created. Out of reflex, you outstretched your hands to look at them clearly and get a feel of the avatar you were given—even running about and getting a hang on things as the sequence tried to load.

“I am sending you in as a Rook,” explained Bishop. “It’ll be easier for you to gain access to the train that way without Jacob or Evie finding that bizarre. Loading you in as we speak…good luck, initiate!”

And just like that, the world went white before the layout of the train finally began to load in. Looking about eagerly, you noticed you weren’t in the cart Jacob was usually seen within, so you hurried across the linked carts to make it towards him. Soon enough, you found him…lying face down on the floor as though he were injured. Seeing him not on the loveseat like he usual was startling to you, and you knelt down quickly to try and shake him back awake.

“Jacob! Jacob, wake up!” you encouraged, wondering where the other part was…did he actually recombine just fine without this necessary intervention?

His fingers curled slightly and you felt relief that he was coming back to himself. “Wha…what the bloody hell happened…?” he asked, hand to his head as his top hat remained upon the floor still from his collapse.

You weren’t sure what to say. Bringing in technology not of this world could cause the memory to corrupt. “I am not sure…I just came in here and you were on the floor,” you answered partially in truth before grabbing his hat to give back to him.

“Thank you,” Jacob praised, accepting his hat back before placing his hand upon his forehead as though he had a horrible headache. “I feel like I’ve been…split down the middle…!”

So he wasn’t reassembled. If he was feeling divided as he was, his memory was probably struggling to stay afloat. Hands to his shoulders, you aided him back towards the loveseat at least to sit down. “Just take it easy, umm…boss,” you chuckled, as it was weird to say that to someone you had been watching and even controlling from afar like some god of his. “Just need to get you off your feet, I am sure.”

Honestly, you weren’t sure. You still needed his other half to recombine him, so…where did that other half go?

Jacob chuckled briefly. “You’re right. I am sure it is just the plague I have.” He was joking and upon his joke, you looked to him to notice his hazel eyes were staring at you with interest. “Forgive me, but I cannot be expected to remember everybody’s name in the Rooks—what is your name again?”

A soft smile spread upon your lips, and you answered, “(Y/N).”

Jacob reclined back upon the loveseat, closing his eyes with a nasally hum as he repeated the name to himself. “(Y/N)…doesn’t ring a bell, love, but it is good to have you here. I am sure my sister would be boxing my ears about possibly drinking too much had she seen me. Can’t say I care for the stuff though.”

Wait…

Since when did Jacob Frye not care to drink? You had seen him with the Rooks many times partying with them like there was no tomorrow, and if you had to be honest…Jacob was acting very calm and not his usual rowdy and annoying self. Your eyes shifted about as a million thoughts assaulted you in concern. Had the glitch actually removed apart of himself…?

“Something wrong, (Y/N)?” Jacob inquired. He was leaning back upon the loveseat with his hands folded in his lap and his muddy boots were actually off of the fine furnishings of it. Dare you say he was acting gentlemanly?

You inhaled sharply, shaking your head to be rid of the idea completely as it was just so bizarre…in all the memory files you had been through with the Assassins, you had never seen or experienced anything like this. “Oh, no, it was nothing,” you lied with a brief smile. The other half had to be around London somewhere. A part of Jacob couldn’t just evaporate into nothing. “Tell me something, Jacob…do you remember how you ended up on the floor?”

Jacob twisted his mouth to the side before gazing upward at the ceiling of the train as though his answer were there. “Come to think of it,” he began, scratching his beard in contemplation, “I haven’t the foggiest, really. I was sitting here looking at the target board, and then a bright light…” He flinched, hand to his head, he hissed in dismay.

The sight caused you to react as you were quick to hold onto his shoulders in support. “You don’t plan on venturing out tonight, do you?” you asked curiously, as you needed to explore London to find the other part of Jacob if it did indeed just leave the area somehow.

“Not like this, no,” Jacob answered without much thought on the matter. “I feel like I have a bleeding hangover!” He moved both hands to his head as if to still the banging sensation.

 _Great_ , you thought to yourself and lowered Jacob back down on the furniture he was upon. “Just rest for a bit then, Jacob. Besides, the Rooks can handle it in your absence.”

“Thanks, love,” he moaned in discomfort. “I will relish in that thought, really.”

Oddly enough, he wasn’t being sarcastic. It was so weird…it was like the witty sarcasm and aggressive personality was just removed from him. Laughing weakly, you pushed yourself to your feet. “I will return shortly, Jacob. I swear. You just look to resting up.” Turning on your heels quickly, you exited the train while it was stilled at Whitechapel Station and made a quick escape to try and contact Bishop at least. With most of the people out of earshot, you turned to your devices and contacted her to explain of the happenings with Jacob Frye.

“So he’s acting different?” she asked, a small hum heard shortly after as she tried to make sense of the thought. “Strange…a glitch shouldn’t cause that as a memory is a memory and set in stone regardless of the rule bending we can do to it. You’d think the memories of Jacob were becoming sentient…” Again, she sighed as the whole ordeal was apparently frustrating. “I’ll have to contact Shaun and see what he has to say about this. In the meantime, see if you can’t find the other part of Jacob if it is indeed going rogue somewhere in London.”

“But where do I even begin to look? London is huge, you know!” you pointed out, cradling your elbows as you furrowed your brow in thought. “Now that I think of it…Jacob was complaining about his head hurting—as though he had a hangover—do you think the two are still linked regardless of how far apart they are?”

“Well, things are already weird, so why not?” Bishop answered as if considering that a possibility. “If that is the case, I am sure his other half is getting drunk somewhere. Start with the pubs about London. Good luck, initiate.”

With Bishop off of the line, you looked about Whitechapel with a nasally sigh. According to the memory, it was cold that day given the breath on the air, but you had grown detached from the idea of feeling anything in this virtual world. It was all fake in the sense it was just data and DNA playing together to make a playground, and you took that to heart in worry of ever falling victim to the idea of wanting to live in that playground forever at some point. Not that you thought it possible—it was like running your fingers through the wind when you tried to touch a person, drink a drink, or even bother with eating anything. Your avatar would react to it, but you, mentally, couldn’t comprehend it and it held no value to you from where you were outside the Animus.

“Pubs, eh? Guess we’ll start in Whitechapel then,” you murmured to yourself and hurried as quickly as you could to the pubs that you knew of that resided in that location.

 

 

The run was tedious. You’d give anything for Jacob’s trick gauntlet about then and there to make traversing London that much swifter. You looked everywhere in Whitechapel and upon giving up as the sun was setting in the memory, you took your run to City of London as quickly as you could to hunt there before heading to Lambeth. While the memory was dictating it was late, you knew it was also getting late in your world, and you were starting to feel exhausted from chasing after, what could possibly be, nothing at all.

“I swear, this is the exact definition of a wild goose chase,” you grumbled, leaning against the cold, brick wall of the Lambeth pub’s exterior. A small yawn escaping you, you did your best to hide it behind your hand. “I really should just look into this more tomorrow…maybe the data will fix itself?”

“And what has you going on about nonsense now, love?” asked a familiar voice from the nearby street corner.

Jumping at the sudden tone, you turned quickly with a raise of your brow to notice Jacob Frye was standing there with his Assassin’s hood up and in place for some reason or another. Hand to your rapidly beating heart, you exhaled a breath of relief. “Oh, it’s just you, Jacob.” Moving a stray hair from your face, you managed a smile in greeting to him. “Feeling better after your problem on the train?”

Jacob’s eyes were shrouded, but you could see his mouth crease into a confused frown at your words. “I’m sorry? I am not sure what you mean.”

When you were about to laugh at his forgetful memory, it was there you noticed a beer bottle in his hand and your breath caught upon inhaling sharply at realizing you found the other half. “Jacob…?” you questioned, lowering your arms to your sides wondering what this side could possibly be if the other was more gentlemanly and calm.

The frown curled up into a wayward grin as his fingers teased the bottle he carried. While the other Jacob might have been reeling from the hung over feeling, seemed this one was dealing with it just fine. Jacob’s lips were upon the bottle once more, and he tossed back the rest of it before being rid of the bottle off to the side, causing it to shatter upon impact with the ground. “Oh, you’re talking about the other Jacob?” he asked, inching closer towards you.

This one felt as though it had a darker presence, and before too long, you had your back (literally) against the wall as he was towering over you with his arm blocking you from escaping. It was so weird to actually have one Jacob talking about the other like they were two separate people. Were the memories indeed becoming alert to what was going on around them?

Your fingertips upon the brick wall, you slouched slightly at the sight of him. With a simple disconnect from the data, you could exit out of the memory if it became too much, but for some reason you couldn’t grasp, you felt compelled to stay there. “I guess you could call him that,” you admitted, trying to stay your ground.

While your mind and body tried to remain detached from this exposure to the man you had been monitoring for the past several weeks, you could swear that you smelt the horrible stench of old alcohol upon his breath as his mouth was dangerously close to you. The thought that you could actually smell something you shouldn’t nearly suffocated you.

“So, you’ve come to fetch me then?” this darker Jacob inquired, his fingertips trailing from just under your throat towards your chest.

Your chest tightened and your breath was lost to his actions. Again, it was as though your mind was trying to make every moment with your subject real, and it was unnerving. Yes, you grew attached to this memory of Jacob Frye, but to actively have him advancing upon you was almost like a dream. “Well, I…”

You paused in your words. How much should you really be telling a divided memory? Like Bishop said, the wrong thing could cause the memory to corrupt and then the Assassins would lose everything in regards to locating the shroud.

Carefully, you chose your words as you tried to dissuade his touch from your body. “…I have to at least get you back to the train. The other Jacob is waiting for you there.”

Jacob scoffed, removing his arm finally from where it was resting just above your head against the wall you found yourself next to. “That part of me is better off dead, love,” insisted this half of Jacob. The mere resonation of those words was enough to make you quiver and bite your lower lip. Was this actually an evil Jacob…was this a darker part of him somehow? It was as though his dark half got separated from his light half.

“One cannot live without the other,” you felt the need to quote in regards to old belief light cannot exist without dark and vise versa. “You would seriously put yourself in danger just to live as this?”

Another sly smirk found its way across the lips of the Assassin. At this angle, with him so close, you could see under his hood a bit better, and his eyes looked more haunting than before. It was as though he was a predator eyeing a wounded prey and just waiting for that moment to strike. “Is it such a bad thing, love?” he asked, his breath getting so dangerously close to you that you could swear you felt its eerie touch upon your skin. “I can go about my business in drinking about jolly ol’ London town while my…” he paused, gesturing at nothing in particular in his slightly tipsy state and laughed at the thought. “…we’ll call him my ‘piss half’, can practically stay about reading his books, taking things at ease, and licking his sister’s boots.”

The thought didn’t very much sound like the Jacob you remembered. Was the kinder side really a part that he just kept buried and under wraps? Your eyes looked off to the side in wonder at that thought only to have the Jacob before you grab at your chin and force you to look at him.

You froze…unsure of what he was going to do. This Jacob, without the calm nature of knowing when enough was enough, could very easily kill your avatar if he so desired. While the thought shouldn’t scare you, as it was all data, everything was starting to feel real and as though the worlds were blending together.

Perhaps he saw the fear in your eyes, but for whatever reason, the darker Jacob released your face and allowed you to compose yourself. “You are so bloody tense,” he teased, grabbing onto your wrist next and urging you around the corner to the nearby pub he was probably in just moments ago. “Come with me and loosen up a bit!”

You wanted to dig your feet into the ground and resist, but with how unpredictable his character was, you felt the need to follow suit anyways. The last thing you wanted to do was possibly anger this version.

Sitting down at a booth Jacob had picked out for you, he order two more drinks from the bartender and let them clank down in front of you. Beer wasn’t really your thing, so the mere sight of it (even if data) made you cringe. “Two drinks? Seems to me you’ve had enough to drink tonight, Jacob,” you commented boldly, taking to the one Jacob was urging towards you.

“Who said that other one was for me?” he asked, looking to you with a sly grin and a shrug of his brow as he took a seat across from you. It was probably there he noticed your hesitation, and Jacob threw his head back and jeered. “Don’t fancy a pint much?”

“I didn’t…I didn’t _fancy_ it much, no,” you parroted, trying to remind yourself that it was all just information and numbers in the form of a drink. Easily, you could ingest the beer and not even taste of it, so it should be no problem. Looking into the mug, you cringed at the sight. Didn’t look all that inviting and almost appeared as dirt from first glance.

“For heaven’s sake,” he grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “just throw it back quick like, and it’ll be painless!”                                                                                               

Flinching at his tone of voice, you eventually relented and threw back the first gulp that you could. _It is just a memory…nothing more_ , you reminded yourself only to feel yourself nearly gag as the taste took actual form within your throat and irritated it upon impact.

Seems Jacob was expecting that as he grinned at your reaction. You, on the other hand, were in shock as the drink was pulled away from your lips and your eyes widened at the taste. “What the hell is going on…?” you murmured to yourself, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Not bad, eh?” Jacob chuckled, tilting his head upward with a cocky sideways smirk.

Coughing against your hand, you shook your head. “Y-Yes…delightful,” you sarcastically jabbed, trying to come down from your concern of what was going on with the Animus you were gifted from the Assassins to use it to research past history events to uncover pieces of Eden.

It was then the Assassin moved to the side you were sitting in to urge you to continue drinking. “What is stopping you from continuing, love?”

Grumbling, you rolled your eyes at Jacob’s behavior. “I have a name, you know. It’s (Y/N),” you explained to the memory as you looked back at the alcohol in your hand _. I am not sure I should continue…I worry it might be harder to wake up if—_.

Just as you were musing over the idea of shutting the program down and turning in for the night, Jacob grabbed the hand that held the drink and urged it back to your lips to the point you nearly felt like you were drowning. In a desperate attempt to save yourself, you began to drink what you could quickly, but that didn’t stop the rest of the alcohol from spilling down the corners of your mouth and to the outside of your throat from his rushed actions. When the beer was released from you, you gasped harshly and quivered from the sudden realistic sensation that overtook your senses.

You found Jacob’s hand just under your chin once more. Flinching at the tight hold, you gritted your teeth to show it was unwelcomed, only to be caught off guard by the feel of his tongue tracing over the places that were stained by the liquor, which marred your skin. A hot blush painting your cheeks, you watched Jacob’s actions closely as your eyes widened at the sensation rushing through your body. His thumb over your throat to tease the other stained parts of your body marked by the pint, Jacob’s tongue eventually took hold of the same location in place of his thumb—his beard you could clearly feel teasing your flesh in the process. You tried not to give him the satisfaction that you enjoyed it as you closed your eyes tightly.

However, seemed this Jacob was fully aware of your actions and every little bit of your body could easily betray you in his presence. “Hmm, not so bad now, was it, (Y/N)?” he asked, his eyes narrowing to study you closely as a lopsided smirk hung upon his lips.

Your lower lip trembled when thinking of a response. “It’s late, Jacob,” you said in almost a whisper. “I should probably be going…”

“You still have one more drink, love,” he reminded you in a hiss of a low voice in return, his thumb moving towards the corner of your mouth. “Finish that first, and then we will talk.”

“If I do…will you head back to the train with me?” you asked, wanting to make a bargain with this darker version of Jacob.

Jacob looked upward at nothing in particular as if to consider the thought. A playful look in his eyes as he turned back to you, he smiled a sort of smile that you couldn’t help but dread. “Alright, (Y/N),” he responded, his fingers moving from your face as they found their home upon the tabletop. “Finish the drinks, and then I will head back to the train with you.”

You had no choice in the end—you had to endure the horrible taste for several agonizing minutes to come. It was still baffling as to why your mind was registering these smells, touches, and tastes. The Animus shouldn’t allow such a thing to happen…

Feeling sick and dizzy, you found your head in your hands by the end of the last drink. It was late in your world and more than anything, you just wanted to log out of the memory and go to sleep. Now you felt tipsy and sick to your stomach over the taste of a pint. All you could think to do was sit there in the booth and let it try to run its course, but you soon felt Jacob pulling you from where you sat and urging you out of the pud and about the streets of London with a drunken laugh at your behavior.

“Just two pints and you can’t hold your head above your arse, love?” he smirked, keeping you standing as he continued to guide you through the cold streets of London. “You certainly are something else.”

You wanted to slap him, but you resisted. Instead, you found the energy to push him away when the two of you came upon a back road leading behind some buildings about Lambeth. “G-Get lost…!” you growled, stumbling forward as your mind swirled endlessly in regards to the memory becoming so real. _What in the hell is going on? I shouldn’t even feel this…!_

“Aah, and here I thought you wanted me to head back to the train with you?” Jacob pointed out, grabbing at your wrist and urging you to a nearby tree where the bark roughly scraped at your back upon impact.

Flinching, you looked to Jacob as nervousness had a tight hold onto your body. His hand upon your throat, you felt the sleekness of his gloved touch against your skin, and you gasped out in worry that he would strangle you. Jacob grinned and moved closer to your ear to whisper to you then.

“Try and resist me all you want, (Y/N),” he encouraged, cockiness upon every word he spared you. “However, that won’t stop me from having a taste of you…”

Eyes closed tightly, you tilted your head to the side as his warm words were teasing your ear. It was as though he was literally there in the room whispering to you. Again, you wanted to escape but something prevented you from the act. “D-Don’t do this, Jacob…!” you pleaded, but your mouth was soon occupied with his fingers urging their way past your lips to caress your tongue.

“If you’re going to flop your gob, make it useful,” he smirked, prompting you to soak his fingers with your saliva as you still had to swallow now and again.

 _Why can’t I disengage from the memory!_ You thought in a panic, fingers curling against the bark of the old tree, which loomed over you both. To say you didn’t enjoy the sensation was a lie at best. You had grown attached to Jacob, and you wished for such an intimate moment for him, but not like this.

When his fingers removed from your mouth, he broke the string of saliva upon them as you gasped and coughed—still in shock over his sudden deed and the ability to feel and taste of him as you were. Jacob still kept that cocky smirk upon his lips as he ejected the hidden blade from his glove. Seeing the blade shining in the moonlight, you hitched in breath and backed up all the more against the tree behind you. Was he actually going to try and kill you?

“Don’t piss yourself, love,” said Jacob slyly, and at that very moment, he took one swift motion downward to slash the fabric of your clothing to let it cut in two and expose your body.

“J-Jacob!” you said as a means to curse his name, trying to embrace yourself as your body was starting to encourage the idea of it being cold about you. As you thought to try and cover yourself, Jacob reacted and grabbed your wrists to pin them above your head.

“Now, now, love,” Jacob chuckled, “what’s the point of undressing you only to have you cover yourself?” Seeing the terror in your eyes, he cradled your chin once more. “I will go easy on you. I swear.” His words were a means to be friendly and kind, but you could easily hear the venomous lies hiding within them like a snake in the grass.

Just as you wondered how this night would even end, the Jacob before you took a dart of something in his neck making him flinch in anger as he removed you from his hold to take care of what he was shot with. Pulling the dart from its resting place, he growled angrily at the sight of it. “So…he’s here…” The Assassin’s words were heavy and sounded like they were weighed down by stone. “Jacob…I know you’re there!” he called loudly.

Again, it was so odd hearing Jacob referring to himself in the third person. All the same, you watched closely as he stammered and, before long, this darker Jacob found himself upon his hands and knees and then collapsing upon his side.

He was out cold, and the darker Jacob looked peaceful for once just sleeping like that. As you knelt down to get a better look at him, you heard someone land not far away from where you were, and you instinctively tried to cover yourself since your clothes were cut down the center nearly exposing your breasts.

It was Jacob—the calmer version still sporting his top hat and intricate clothing with his cane-sword at his side. He was staggering a bit (possibly reeling from the effects of the sleep dart he put on his other half), but he used his cane-sword as a means to stay upright. Hand to his head, he frowned at his counterpart lying there on the ground. “Bloody hell…what a mess he is!” he grumbled to himself, noticing the predicament you were in with a blush painting his cheeks. Quickly, he removed his trench coat to hand it over to you to let you be covered properly. “I apologize for taking so long. Are you alright, (Y/N)?” His hand found its way upon your shoulder in worry.

This Jacob’s touch was embraced by you and it brought a sort of unexplainable calm. His look was not as mischievous and it held concern for your wellbeing. “Y-Yes, I am fine,” you answered. _Figuratively speaking anyways_ , you thought.

Jacob nodded before kneeling down to look at the darker half of himself. “It took me awhile to find him and you.” As he looked himself over, Jacob brought his hand slowly to his own head with a discontent sigh. “My mind was just…a foggy mess. It was hard to think for a bit there for some reason.”

You wondered if you should ask if he felt like he had a hangover or even fatigued now that he drugged his counterpart, but you stilled the thought as his memory might not take to the question well even if one of them was acknowledging that they were part of the same. “Jacob…does it all make some sort of sense now? Do you realize what happened here?” you asked, not wanting to force the data to recombine.

“When my sister, Evie, pointed out something seemed amiss about me, it was then I realized and came to find you and him, yes,” Jacob answered, looking over his shoulder at you. “But…how did this happen? A person can’t just split into two versions of himself.” Jacob brought his hands to his face and sighed in disbelief. “Am I going mad…?”

Keeping the trench coat around your body tightly, you reached for his shoulder supportively. “We just need to get you back together. I am sure this is all just some wild dream you’ll wake up from, yes?”

A dream…that scenario could work, right?

Jacob moved his head from his hands and looked to you just over his shoulder before hesitantly nodding at the thought. “Perhaps, (Y/N), it just feels too damn real.”

As Jacob’s eyes moved back to his asleep counterpart, you looked upward at the sky with a nasally scoff only you could hear. _You’re telling me…I still need to remove myself from the Animus and get to bed._ Your finger massaged your forehead in thought. _Wonder if I should tell Bishop about this or maybe Shaun?_

“Let’s just get him back for now, (Y/N),” the calmer Jacob encouraged, grabbing onto his other half and tossing him over his shoulder like he would other out cold targets. Turning to you, his brow wrinkled in concern. “You look exhausted, but given what I stumbled upon, I imagine dealing with him was no bloomin’ treat.” Jacob motioned forward. “Let’s get back to the train, love.” Perhaps he noticed the flushed look on your face and the slight wobble in your step. “Will you make it back okay?”

You smiled to him and nodded. “I will be fine. Why don’t you go ahead without me, Jacob? I will be right there; I promise.” Admittedly, you just wanted him out of sight so you could remove yourself from the playing field. If these memories were taking in everything about themselves and even witnessing glitches in the memory, who knows what they would say or do if you logged out right in front of them.

Jacob nodded slowly. “Alright then. I will meet you back at headquarters.” He situated his other half’s body upon his shoulder. “Take care of yourself then.” And with that said, Jacob took his leave of the area.

Cradling your elbows as you leaned back against the tree, you smiled briefly. It was nice to have Jacob actively talking to you. Realizing that it wasn’t wise to fall prey to this idea of always being nearby him and his kinder personality, you quickly worked on logging out for the evening.

Removing the visor, you breathed heavily—as though you were underwater and now just coming up for air. Hand to your mouth, you thought back on all the incidents in the Animus that felt so real…even now, as you touched your throat, it still burned from the episode with the beer. “Maybe I am just tired…maybe I just fell asleep for a bit in there or something and it started to run on my subconscious? That can happen…right?”

Honestly, you’d look for any excuse possible. You didn’t want to think you were going crazy. You could talk about it figurative with Shaun if he came through the line tomorrow to coach you through the glitch. Right now, if your clock was any indication, it was nearly three in the morning, and you just wanted to depart for bed and think about it more later.

 

\--

 

The loud, obnoxious beeping sound of an incoming call was the first thing to wake you from your sleep. Jumping slightly from the sound, you moaned in annoyance given the fact you were restless through the night and hardly got a single bit of peaceful sleep as you wanted. Turning towards your cell, you grabbed onto it to notice the incoming line was unidentifiable. That didn’t worry you—the Assassins always made sure their lines were hard to trace, so you knew it had to be them when you answered.

“Hello?” you answered, not realizing how tired you sounded in the process as you rested on your side shortly after retrieving the phone.

“Pulling more all nighters, are we?” asked a teasing, British tone. “Honestly, (Y/N), I thought you’d be better than this.”

Wrinkling your brow in confusion at first, it was then you placed the tone. “Shaun?” you asked, finding it odd he found your cell number as you usually kept that reserved for Bishop. “How did you get this number?”

“I can hack into Abstergo without a second thought, and you want to know how I got your cell number?” he asked, sounding confident as always in his works with data.

Rolling your eyes, you found your hand to your face. “What do you need, Shaun? Did Bishop fill you in on the data glitch?”

“I see how it is; between you and Rebecca, it is hard to even get a moment to gloat,” Shaun commented dully before clearing his throat. “If you’re so bloody tired, how about you boot up your computer, and we can talk face to face without the use of a cell phone? A lot safer that way anyways.”

You had to get decent first, but after agreeing with him on the idea and turning off your cell, you made your way over to your main computer and booted up everything you needed to speak with him through a video line.

“That’s better,” commented Shaun from where he was located…wherever that was. Seemed, for the Assassins to be cautious as their numbers were few, you weren’t allowed to know where some of them were directly unless it was an emergency. “Well, let’s get down to business, shall we?”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” you murmured, still struggling to wake up completely.

“Apparently someone is not a morning person, so I will try to be brief,” Shaun lightly scolded as he fixed his glasses. “I am going to assume you’ve not tried going back into the Animus to check on Jacob and see if he’s one being again?”

“No, not yet,” you answered behind a small yawn. “You woke me up, remember?”

“That’s why I said ‘assume’, (Y/N),” Shaun clarified, leaning slightly closer to the video camera. “If he is indeed still divided, then you’re going to have to find the problem within the memory itself and locate where the fragmentation might have happened.”

“What exactly would cause a fragmentation in the data?” Your mind was still racing from last night after asking such a thing. Just trying to remember the events made you shift uncomfortably in your seat. “Besides, it happened on the train. I saw it there with my own eyes when I was trying to switch to Jacob when in the train, and it caused the divide of him.”

“Anything can cause a fragmentation of memory data,” Shaun answered with a shrug of his shoulders. “It has happened before with another bloke the Templars were after named Shay Patrick Cormac. Could even be a virus in the bloody machine, but I am not too sure. We need to research it to find out.” He motioned towards you. “If you said it happened on the train, then start there, or try talking to Jacob himself. Bishop said she created an avatar for you, right?”

You were quiet. Should you bring up your worries about the Animus memories becoming real to you? Shaun could be a bit of a boastful sort and sarcastic to boot, but he was the most knowledgeable about machines. “So, I have a hypothetical question for you, Shaun.”

Shaun looked to you curiously from his side of the line. “Then I will respond hypothetically.”

Playfully in return, you rolled your eyes as you rubbed your neck idly. “The Animus can’t cause you to feel things within it like it was real life, right?”

“It shouldn’t,” answered Shaun, but his voice sounded heavy with concern. “If a person starts to experience such a side effect, it means they are bleeding their subconscious into the machine unknowingly, and it will become difficult to remove them from it….they could even die in the machine if they come to believe it so real.”

“Die?” you repeated in worry.

“Yes, **_die_**.” He emphasized the world to get his point across before looking you over with interest. “You’ve heard of rare cases of people dying in their sleep, yes? Sometimes a person can subconsciously think that the dream is real, so if they fall from a thirteen story building in that dream, the heart attack they incur is what gets them. If you project yourself too far into the Animus, someone laying a blade within your chest will force your body to believe it real, and you could die from cardiac arrest.”

“The mind is that powerful, hu?” you asked with a nervous laugh, not wanting to think about it all too much.

“The brain can trick a woman into thinking she is pregnant to where she produces breast milk for no child and a person into being ill to the point it can nearly becoming a false reality to the body, (Y/N) …you tell me how powerful it is.”

You sighed to yourself, looking behind you to the Animus machine that took up a good portion of your bedroom. So it is true…the effects of the Animus were bleeding into you somehow. Maybe you were just tired and that was why?

“(Y/N),” began Shaun, bringing you back to yourself and prompting you to look at him. “You’ve not been experiencing these, have you?”

His tone had turned to worry, and you smiled with a shake of your head to calm the fellow Assassin. “No, no, it is fine, Shaun. I assure you.”

“You’re a bleedin’ lousy liar,” Shaun chastised, making you straighten up in your chair. “How long have you been obsessing over this Jacob Frye?”

You swallowed harshly at his accusation. “I don’t know the hours logged,” you lied again, not wanting him to know.

“Do I need to hack into your Animus to find out the truth, (Y/N)?” Shaun threatened, reclining back in his seat.

“Do you need to be such a dick about it, Shaun?” you barked angrily, not wanting him to know exactly the amount of time you spent in to Animus. “I’ve logged all those hours trying to help you all find the shroud!”

“And how close have you gotten? What memory sequence are you on?” Shaun asked, feeling challenged by your tone of voice.

You bit at your lower lip to think of a quick response but none came. You had been so wrapped up in Jacob’s daily life that you hadn’t really gotten as far as the Assassins had hoped you would. Once they found what they were looking for, they would terminate the program, and that would be the last you’d see of Jacob and Evie Frye.

Shaun removed his glasses and began to massage between his eyes. “You know…Jacob Frye is dead, remember?”

Hearing Shaun be so brutal about the situation made your heart break as you turned to him quickly with a shocked and appalled expression.

“The closest you’ll ever get to him is where the Assassin’s headquarters is as that’s where all the Assassin’s clothing and devices have been stored,” Shaun continued, finding it within him to place his glasses back upon the slope of his nose. “Including the Victorian gauntlet and Jacob and Evie Frye’s attire.”

You didn’t know where that even was. For all you knew, Bishop actually resided there in secret. Sighing out your frustration, you ran your fingers through your hair and exhaled in a disgruntled manner. “The closest I feel to him is through the Animus, Shaun,” you answered honestly.

“Why are you falling in love with him, (Y/N)?” Shaun’s tone sounded irritable as he asked such a question. Ever since you joined, he had been on your back about how you handled some sequences and always confessed his worry you’d get too bound to a project. It never happened…until they unearthed Jacob Frye’s memory. “You are falling in love with a lad who doesn’t exist anymore!”

“If you’re done lecturing me, Shaun, I do have to get back into the Animus to fix his memory so we can find the shroud,” you growled in retaliation, narrowing your eyes at him and his behavior.

“Fine,” Shaun relented, collapsing back into his chair as his hands slapped upon his thighs. “Get this glitch fixed today, or I am contacting Bishop about we discussed, (Y/N). She will remove you from the project if you put your personal feelings on the line like this.” When you didn’t respond to his demand, Shaun continued, “I’ll be monitoring your progress from here and help you as need be. Good luck, (Y/N).”

You didn’t need to hear him griping at you anymore as you terminated the call before reclining back in your chair in an exhausted manner. “Great…I get to have that corgi yapping in my ear as I do this,” you whispered to yourself before departing from where you sat to get dressed and ready for the day.

 

 

After everything was organized for your trip into the Animus, you nervously took the visor into your hands. If you loaded back into your avatar and you still began to experience it like reality…you could easily become locked within it as Shaun warned. Jokingly, you could only say it wouldn’t be so bad if you had a chance to live about Jacob, but you would be trapped within data, and data could be deleted…

Victorian London loaded back in once more, and you found your clothing reassembled no thanks to the magic that was the Animus. You still had Jacob’s trench coat, apparently, and the memory was still set back when you last logged out, so the cold night of London embraced your avatar still.

“At least I am not a drunken mess anymore,” you whispered to yourself, hurrying to locate the train headquarters to check on the two Jacobs and see if the glitch had fixed itself.

Upon arriving, you found no such luck as the lighter Jacob was watching the darker one rest still—apparently baffled by the idea he was divided as this. Hearing you come in, Jacob turned to you and smiled. “You made it, (Y/N). I was beginning to wonder if you would.” Noticing that your clothes had, somehow, mended themselves, he accepted his coat back from you with a confused frown. “Found new clothes…did we?”

“Yeah, a fellow Rook let me have hers,” you lied pathetically with a simple smile in return.  Looking down at his other form, which remained out cold, you nodded towards him. “What do we plan to do with this one?”

Jacob’s hand found his forehead as he massaged himself there with a nasally sigh. “I am not too sure…I am not even sure how this happened.”

Apparently, asking Jacob what might have happened to cause the divide was a dead end. Seeing his worry over the situation, you smiled and placed your hand comfortingly on his upper back. “Don’t worry, Jacob—we will get this fixed…I swear to you.”

“It is late, and I would say sleep would be divine, but I can’t just go to sleep knowing that this…part of me roams about,” pointed out Jacob with a shake of his head, removing his top hat from his head to ponder over the events.

You looked down at the darker side of the Assassin he was referring to. Maybe if you spoke to them separately this memory could mend itself if they could come to believe that it was wise to recombine? “I can watch him for you, Jacob. If anything happens, I can manage just fine—I promise.”

All the same, the Assassin turned to you with an uncertain expression. “I’d rather you come wake me when he starts to rouse, love. Given the scene later in the evening and all that…”

“Just go rest,” you insisted, finding him to still be hardheaded in this form. “I promise, I will come fetch you should he start to wake.” When Jacob still refused to move, it was there you grabbed his wrists to aid him in the process. Just touching him at that moment appeared to be fine. Relief washed over you for a moment, though you couldn’t help but wish you could feel the warmth of his character once more.

“If you swear to come fetch me when he wakes, then I will gladly, (Y/N),” he answered, slowly rising to his feet in the process as you aided him.

“I swear to you, Jacob,” you answered, urging him to go lie down in another cart somewhere if he so desired.

“My sister, Evie, is out on her own runs about right now, so her room is vacant,” Jacob explained, stopping at the exit of the cart he was in. “I will be resting there on her bed for now. You know where that is, yes?”

“I know this train like the back of my hand, Jacob,” you laughed softly, urging him onward. “Just go on now! I promise I will be fine.”

Finally, he relented, and you were left to the darker version of Jacob Frye, who was passed out on the floor. Well, that and the possibility that Shaun was monitoring your progress. Getting in contact with Shaun, you tried to relay the situation so far.

“Asking Jacob isn’t going to amount to anything, Shaun. Apparently, when the glitch or virus or whatever occurred, he blacked out,” you explained between the two of you.

“Brilliant,” Shaun grumbled from his side of the line. “If these two Jacobs are acting different from one another, you better think of a way to recombine them and fast, (Y/N). Otherwise, they will start to feel better without the aid of the other in this sentient state, and the data will corrupt as Jacob isn’t supposed to be a triplet!”

“I’ll handle it,” you insisted, massaging your forehead. “Just give me a moment to think of how to do so…”

“Do so quickly, and please…” Shaun paused as he sighed on his side of the line. “…just be careful.”

Hearing him insist such a thing, you could swear there was honest worry in his tone, but you chose to ignore it as you shut down the communications line for the time being. Convincing everyone in London who knew the Fryes that it was all just some crazy dream that there were two Jacobs would be a challenge and impossible. Something would have to be done to revive the memory and piece it back together.

As you were struggling with an idea of what to do through the night of the memory, you heard the darker Jacob on the floor groaning on the floor and slowly coming around. Looking up from your lap, you debated on what to do. You did promise the other Jacob you would wake him when this happened, but…you still needed to talk to this one in private.

“Bloody fucking hell…” he grumbled, sitting upright as he held his head in his hand. “What did that bastard hit me with…?”

“Welcome back, Jacob,” you commented, catching his attention from where you were sitting.

Turning his head to you quickly, Jacob’s eyes looked you up and down in a curious manner. “So you managed to drag me back here with the help of that other worthless part of me, eh?” He shook his head slowly to try and be rid of the effects of it all with a soft grunt. “And where is that wanker?”

“He is resting,” you answered honestly, trying to maintain your ground around this darker version; especially, now that you didn’t feel your subconscious bleeding into the machine again. “You and I…we need to talk.”

Jacob grinned a twisted grin at your request as he propped one leg up and rested his arm upon his knee. “Wanting to pick up where we left off, eh?” he asked with a cocky tone to his words.

Your heart raced at the thought. To say ‘no’ would be unlike you given your affection for this man, but you had other things to focus on, or Shaun and Bishop would let you have it for compromising the mission. “I would rather I talk to you,” you insisted, moving forward on your thighs from where you were sitting upon the loveseat. “What makes you think living like this is a good idea? You do realize you cannot function without the use of the other Jacob Frye.”

The darker Jacob scoffed, turning his head away with an added growl. “He is always holding me back, love. Without him, I don’t have to show restraint,” he smirked, turning to you then as he fixed his hood back over his head to shroud his eyes from you. “I could have my jollies about London as much as I desired and fuck whoever I so wished to.”

“You can still do those things within him,” you reminded the darker half, trying to encourage him to rejoin.

“Ah, yes, while he gets me to focus on the Templar and Blighter threat about London,” he reminded you, clasping his hands together between his legs. “I don’t mind gutting a few chaps to liberate London, but not if that’s all that’s going to bloody well be to this life.”

“The life always requires a balance of sorts,” you felt need to continue, narrowing your eyes at him as this Jacob was being bullheaded.

Jacob got to his feet then, and you found yourself recoiling at the thought you said something unwise to anger him. His hand to your face once more, you gasped in fear as you started to feel the leather of his glove and the sensation of his fingers upon your skin. Why was it this one could invoke such a feeling in you while the other couldn’t? As his hold squeezed upon you, you closed your eyes to show you were in discomfort and wanted him to stop. “And what of you, (Y/N)? What side do you enjoy?”

Your eyes darted about as you weren’t sure how to answer that. “I prefer the combined Jacob Frye…the one that I remember.”

As soon as you spoke your words, Jacob’s index finger urged its way into your mouth and massaged your tongue eagerly. “That so?” Jacob asked with a smirk, his eyes just seen shrouded under his hood. “I can tell you this much: my other part would hardly find it within him to do this much to you.”

As his finger was removed from your mouth, you gasped and coughed as you weren’t expecting such a ‘to the point’ reaction from him. “Maybe he—!” Before you could hope to spare a single comeback to his darker half, your lips were met with his and your eyes widened in utter shock.

The mere taste of him made you quiver though cringe at the same time as his breath still smelt of old alcohol. You wanted to push him off and away from you as the last thing you wanted was for this to be documented, but you became lost to the realness of it and submitted to the abrasive darker side of Jacob Frye. His tongue teasing yours, you hardly took notice of the fact he was undressing himself until he departed from the rough and demanding kiss to urge your mouth to his exposed cock.

A muffled sound of surprise vibrated against his length as you felt it tease your lips, caress your tongue, and soon expand your throat. _Why…why am I feeling this again?_ you thought to yourself as Jacob’s hand moved to the back of your head to urge his swelling length as far as it could go with your nose buried within his curly mound. Your hands to his sides, you almost tried to resist him, but Jacob wouldn’t have it.

At your first attempt to push him back, he undid his necktie and bound your wrists together behind your back as your mouth was busy. “There…that should handle that,” he commented breathlessly.

His size was beginning to gag you to the point your saliva began to drip from your occupied lips. As you struggled with the bindings you found yourself in, you were soon freed from his throbbing erection and, yet again, you coughed and sputtered once your throat was liberated of the organ. “You could…you could at least…ask first!”

“Now what fun would that be?” Jacob scoffed, moving closer to your ear with a damning whisper, “Especially when I know how badly you’re aching for it.”

You bit your lower lip. Were you that transparent, or were the memories actually knowing of how many hours you had clocked into the database? Before you could think to ask, Jacob grabbed you by the arm and urged you to the floor where your face found it first. Trembling from the sudden feel of the carpet rubbing against your cheek, you turned to look at him with a mixture of emotions. On the one hand, you were terrified, on the other, you were embarrassed and yet also intrigued to know how far he would go with this.

“Not fighting anymore, are we?” Jacob asked, a sly grin hooking upon his face as he grabbed at your lower attire and began to do away with it urgently. With your entrance exposed, his grin only widened as he found what he wanted.

You had no response. You could ask how you were to fight back, but there were ways—you just didn’t utilize them for some reason.

Jacob’s hand found the back of your neck, and you cried out softly at the tight hold he placed upon you before he urged his cock, soaked by your saliva, into your body inch by inch. Hearing you cry out in euphoria encouraged his actions all the more, and the pace started slow only for a moment before it started to increase in such an aggressive manner that your chest was being pressed and rubbed against the ground in several harsh motions.

“G-God dammit, Jacob…!” you swore, feeling your knees burn no thanks to the rubbing of the carpet, but you paid it little thought as your mind was going blank from the sensation you never thought you would experience with him in the Animus.

The lewd sounds, which filled the train cart, only escalated the further on he went. Your fists tightening behind your back as his thighs slapped against yours, you weren’t aware that your screams were getting louder and louder…until the door flew open and the other version of Jacob stood there to witness the act.

“What the bloody hell!” the more innocent Jacob exclaimed, grabbing his top hat and quickly moving it to his face to block out the sight as he leaned against the entryway with his cane-sword nearby. “What are you two doing! St-Stop this madness right now!”

“Don’t be so embarrassed, lad,” the darker Jacob chided, pushing all the way inside of you at that instance to where he came harshly and prompted your own orgasm to strike as the hot rush excited your body when it really shouldn’t be.

Quivering from stimulation, you lacked the ability to move let alone think as the Jacob upon you removed his soiled erection from your damp body and unbound your hands as a means to release you. Lying there on the floor partially clothed, you hadn’t the nerve to look up at the other more innocent Jacob to try and even explain yourself.

“We just fancied a bit of fun,” the darker half insisted, grabbing at his pants putting them slowly back into place.

Removing the top hat from his sight slowly, the more innocent half growled at the other Jacob. “Was any of that at all necessary? (Y/N)!” Upon looking to you, he noticed you were still not completely clothed and Jacob’s face turned red as red could be before covering his sight with his hat again to be polite. “I thought you told me you would come fetch me when he was waking up!”

You chewed at your lower lip, still embarrassed of these turn of events as your heart still raced from the aftermath of it all. This was a mess…a huge, fucking, mess. How were you going to rejoin these two; especially, when the darker half felt fine to live without the lighter half and also trying to seduce you?


End file.
